


Burnt Coffee and Braiding

by bucharestbuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Mention, Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Prankster Gabriel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucharestbuck/pseuds/bucharestbuck
Summary: "Sam brought the mug to his lips and as soon as the first drop hit his tongue, he realized his mistake."A day that starts out with a prank turns into something quite different when Sam find himself seated on Gabriel’s bed, the archangel artfully twisting the hunter's hair into two braids.





	Burnt Coffee and Braiding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demolitionbucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demolitionbucky/gifts).



The strong smell of coffee and bacon wafted from the kitchen, effectively rousing Sam. Running a hand over his face, Sam threw back the covers and sat up on the edge of his bed. He took a second to run his hands through his hair, pulling out a few knots that had formed while he tossed and turned in the night. 

With a sigh, Sam rose from his bed and stumbled toward the door to his room. He almost had the door opened before he realized he was in only boxers, and they had guests in the bunker. Sam made quick work of throwing on a t-shirt and some sweatpants and once again began the walk to the kitchen. 

Shuffling into the kitchen, Sam huffed a “good morning” while he blearily poured a cup of coffee, unaware of who was seated at the table, watching him with a smirk. Sam brought the mug to his lips and as soon as the first drop hit his tongue, he realized his mistake. The booming laughter from the corner of the room only further proved Sam’s theory. 

Sam dashed to the sink, spitting and retching. The laughing behind him continued, loud and obnoxious as ever. He should have known. His first clue should have been when he walked in and one, Dean was no where to be found, and two, there was actually no bacon, just the scent to lure Sam into a trap. Once Sam had rinsed out his mouth, he turned to the archangel seated at his table and leveled him with a glare. 

“Can’t believe you fell for that, Sammy,” Gabriel said. “Burnt coffee made with dirty dish water, a classic,” Gabe tried to continue, but fell into another fit of laughter. 

“How old are you again?” Sam asked, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring the whole thing down the drain so he could make some actual coffee. 

“Oh Sammy, you wound me. You never ask an immortal being their age,” Gabe chided. 

“An immortal twelve year old is living in the bunker,” Sam muttered under his breath. 

Gabe had been hanging around the bunker more and more recently, whether it be because of the threat to his life or he just enjoyed pestering the hell out of the Winchester brothers. Regardless, he now pretty much had his own room in the bunker like Cas. 

Living with the archangel wasn’t that bad. He really only became a pain when he got bored, and with all of the dangerous weapons and ancient texts laying around wasn’t as often as one would think. And, to be fair, Gabe only ever really played harmless jokes on the brothers like itching powder in the boxers or replacing all of the meat in the house with tofu, much more annoying than actually harmful. 

The ding of the coffee pot signaled fresh, consumable coffee, and immediately made the still cackling archangel seem like less of a nuisance. Sam poured up two cups, setting one down in front of Gabriel as a peace offering for the time being. The archangel accepted it after a minute of staring at it suspiciously, wrapping his hands around the mug and soaking up the warmth. 

Sam sat down heavily across from Gabe, yawning and taking a big gulp of the still too hot coffee. Gabe watched the hunter with great interest. 

“Can I help you with something?” Sam asked, eyeing the angel in return. 

“You seem tired,” Gabe said, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Yea, understatement of the century,” Sam grumbled, taking another sip of coffee. 

Suddenly a light seemed to go off behind Gabe’s eyes. Sam knew he should be afraid of that look. 

“Sammy, I have an idea,” Gabe said excitedly, setting down the barley touched coffee and standing. “Come with me, and I’ll even let you bring the coffee.”

Sam bit his lip, thinking over the possibilities of what Gabe could possibly have in mind, but settled on going along with whatever the angel intended. Standing slowly, Sam followed the archangel out of the kitchen after opting to leave the hot, burn causing coffee, on the kitchen table and down the hall to Gabe’s designated bedroom. Gabe closed the door after them and motioned Sam toward the bed, having him sit on the end. 

The bed dipped behind Sam as Gabe settled behind him. Gently, Sam felt a pair of hands settle in his hair, combing through it a bit. Before same could say anything about the odd situation, Gabe spoke. 

“A long time ago, when I was upstairs, Luci was too concerned with himself, and Michael was too concerned with Luci, so I got to play big brother,” Gabe began. “All of my siblings craved order and a hierarchy, even though we were supposed to be a family, so all of the younger ones looked to me and a few of the other archangels for guidance through the rough spots. I was never the best at verbal comfort, always a little too crass, but I think you can find a sense of comfort in just sitting with someone, doing something as mundane as braiding hair.”

Sam was taken aback. Up until this point, he couldn’t imagine Gabriel doing anything other than stuffing his face with sugar and pulling pranks on people while surrounded by tall, beautiful women. But the gentle pull of his hair away from his face said otherwise. 

He was suddenly reminded of Gabe’s age again. The archangel had been their for it all, the rise and fall of centuries worth of people and civilizations, never once intervening until the Winchester’s had come along and pulled on a loose thread until the whole cloth had almost unwound. Sam wondered if Gabriel felt his age and if maybe the pranks were a distraction. Maybe annoying the Winchester’s allowed the archangel a brief respite from the cosmic weight of centuries worth of righteous life. All at once, Sam realized he would drink a thousand cups of dish water coffee to see the angel laugh and ease the burden on Gabriel’s shoulders. 

Gabe easily sectioned Sam’s hair into two sections, taking one and then splitting it in three at the front of Sam’s hairline in order to create one of two French braids. His fingers were a bit clumsy to begin with, but slowly, they found a rhythm that was quick but not so much so that it pulled Sam’s hair uncomfortably. 

Sam started out tense, sitting completely upright, but slowly began to sink into the mattress below him as Gabriel’s ministrations lulled him into a state of relaxation. He couldn’t tell how long they sat there, Sam sitting still, eyes closed, while Gabe quietly braided, undid, and rebraided Sam’s hair. 

Sam softly muttered “thank you” when he felt Gabe undo one final braid, finally just running his hands through Sam’s hair. Sam then felt the bed shift as Gabe stood, walking around in front of the hunter, offering his hand. Sam lightly placed his large hand in Gabe’s smaller one, and allowed for the archangel to pull him up, leading him around to the head of the bed. Gabe pulled the covers back, motioning for the hunter to crawl under them. He then tucked the hunter under the covers, and smiled lightly at him before turning to leave. 

Before Gabe could even take a step, a warm hand was looped around his wrist. Gabe turned back to the hunter in his bed, a questioning look on his face. If Gabe hadn’t been looking directly at Sam’s face, he wouldn’t have been able to make out anything. 

“Stay,” Sam whispered quietly, a small look on his face, waiting for the archangel to deny him or laugh in his face. 

Without another word, Gabe rounded the bed and slipped under the covers on the other side. How could he deny Sammy such a sweet request. As soon as Gabe had settled, he felt the large man shift closer to him, yet far enough away it could be ignored or chalked up to him just moving. But Gabe took the hint, and opened his arms. Sam wiggled his way into Gabe’s arms, one arm lopping around Gabe’s middle, face pressed lightly to the angel’s chest. 

Gabe gently went back to what he had been doing before, gently petting his Sammy’s hair as he slowly fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @demolitionbucky on ao3 and tumblr. My tumblr is @bucharestbuck if you wanna drop by or request anything. My inbox is always open.


End file.
